


Sold

by SkinSlave



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band), Marilyn Manson - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Erotica, F/M, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Roleplay, Sexual Slavery, Sexy, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinSlave/pseuds/SkinSlave
Summary: Pet asked for a special birthday session, and got much more than she'd wished for.TW: light bondage, intense impact play, strength in submission, a gold switchblade.





	Sold

I wasn't part of the negotiations. I didn't need to be. I put my trust in my Mistress. I knew she would keep me safe. But that didn't mean I wasn't nervous. My fingers shook as I buckled my collar. She noticed.

"How are you feeling, Pet?" Mistress asked gently as she took over.

"I'm not sure, Ma'am. Excited... and maybe scared."

She smiled and reached for the eyeshadow I'd set out. I held still and let her fix me. Her fingertips were cold on my eyelids.

"Do you remember your safe word?"

"Yes, Ma'am. My safe word is 'apple.' I use it when I want to stop. It's my word and I can use it without punishment or judgement."

Reciting our pre-play script was comforting and empowering. I smiled. She held up my mascara and tilted my head. Her hands were steady.

"My friend knows your safe word, Pet," she said gently. "That word is always yours. You can use it anytime. Do you want to use it now?"

"No, Ma'am," I said, a bit too quickly. "I'm nervous, but I do want this."

She nodded and continued my makeup. I focused on her touch and my anxiety calmed. She loosened too, no doubt aware that I was feeling better. By the time my lips were done, we were both holding in giggles.

"Who is your friend, Ma'am?" I asked impatiently.

"Cheeky Pet!" she gasped in mock offense. "When do you get to meet my friend?"

"When they arrive," I sighed.

"And not one moment sooner," she said, playfully landing a fingertip on my nose. "Now, go get dressed. They'll be here in a few minutes."

I hopped up and crossed into the adjoining hotel room. It had been set up as a playroom. The desk held rows of toys and tools. Under-bed and over-door restraints were ready.

My clothes were set out for me. The bra and panty set was comfortable and practical, and the simple slip dress matched my black nail polish. I smoothed the silky fabric against my thighs. I felt pretty.

The door between the rooms closed. I walked toward it and heard Mistress open the external door. She spoke and a soft voice answered. My heart leapt into my throat. I fought the urge to press my ear against the door.

Instead I went to the edge of the bed and sat. Playtime began this way at home. It seemed right that it would begin this way here. I lowered my head and counted my breaths. I wanted to be calm, to make a good impression.

The door creaked open and my breath caught. I heard Mistress's heels on the floor and soon saw them on the carpet in front of me. I knew I was safe. But the heavy black boots behind her, just barely in my line of sight, made my stomach flutter.

"Pet," Mistress said softly, "this is my friend. Stand up and say 'hello.'"

I stood obediently and smiled. I lifted my eyes and my knees went weak. Next to my loving Mistress was a towering figure. Black dress shirt and slacks were a strange compliment to the mirrored aviators that reflected my surprise. He looked like... but couldn't be... Marilyn Manson. I swallowed hard and forced out a breathy squeak.

"Hello."

He smiled and any doubt I'd had melted away. Mistress had negotiated my submission to the person I'd wanted most to meet since childhood. I loved his art, his music. I'd dreamed of an autograph and a handshake. Somehow she had managed to secure something much, much more.

I suddenly realized I was staring with my lips agape. I snapped my mouth shut and dropped my head. My heart was pounding so hard, I was sure it was shaking my entire body. Mistress reached my collar and snapped my simple chain lead in place. She lifted my chin and met my eyes.

"Do you remember your safe word, Pet?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I murmured. "My safe word is 'apple.' I use it when I want to stop. It's my word and I can use it without punishment or judgement."

"And would you like to use it now?"

I shook my head. She smiled and leaned toward me. She tugged at the collar as though adjusting it. I felt her breath on my neck.

"Happy birthday, Pet," she whispered. "I'll be in the next room."

She pulled away and turned toward Marilyn, offering the leash. He hooked his thumb through the leather loop of the handle. Her fingers left it in his hand in slow motion. Then the door clicked shut and we were alone.

Marilyn cleared his throat. I turned to face him squarely. I was barely shoulder-height on him, thanks to those boots.

"Do you prefer 'Pet,' or would you like to be called something else?" His voice was a rich baritone, familiar and fresh.

"I'm Mistress's Pet because I'm hers and it's what she likes," I reasoned. "If I'm yours for now, you may call me whatever you like, Sir."

He stepped back and cocked his head. I couldn't see his eyes, but it seemed he was admiring me. I stood straight with my arms slightly away from my body. He dropped the lead and made a swirling gesture. I slowly turned in a circle. His gaze was warm and tingling.

When I faced him again, his hand was out. I quickly found the handle of the lead and gave it to him. Only after I'd done it did I realize the significance. I smiled, knowing it was what I truly wanted.

Marilyn led me to a bare stretch of wall. I let him maneuver me until I was standing with my back against the cold drywall. He traced the leash's handle down my side and over my hip.

"Your Mistress isn't coming back for you, Pet," he rumbled, using the handle to lift the hem of my dress. "You've been sold. You're mine now."

I gasped, my fingers twitching against my thighs. I knew it was roleplay, but the mere thought of changing hands - changing to _his_ hands - sent tremors down my spine. He tapped the leash handle against my hip, almost like the first test of a paddle.

"Do you know what I do with the things I buy, Pet?"

"No, Sir."

He wound the chain of the lead around his left hand. Soon his fist was tight against my throat. With the other hand, he dug in the pocket of his pants and produced a gold switchblade. It snapped open and I jumped.

"I ruin them," he growled.

I looked into his face and saw my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked much calmer than I felt. He looked like album art, a paused threat. I nodded and the corners of his mouth rose the tiniest bit. He slid the blade under the strap at my shoulder and tugged. The fabric gave easily. One more pull and the dress pooled around my ankles.

He traced the blade across the mounds of my breasts. I shivered as it made its way down my stomach. He pulled on my collar, bringing me onto my toes. He bent down and scraped the knife across the soft of my belly. I felt the point and his breath in my ear.

"What kind of pie do you like, Pet?"

It was sound and fury. It was a dare. I wasn't about to bite.

"Cherry, Sir," I whispered.

His smile spread. I could believe he was used to having girls swoon and weep at his feet. He was used to being frightening. Perhaps the work I had done with Mistress to overcome my fear made me a different kind of toy. I hoped so.

I heard him close the knife, felt him shift as he put it away. He was so close I could see the texture of his skin. With one hand on my collar and the other on my shoulder, he spun me toward the wall. It felt like dancing.

He let go and unhooked the lead. I listened to him rummage through the toys on the desk. I leaned on my forearms and waited. He returned quickly and I felt the smooth chill of leather on the small of my back.

"I'm not going to be disappointed in my purchase, am I, Pet?" he asked with a hint of anticipation.

"I don't think so, Sir."

The toy roamed up to my shoulders and back down to my buttocks.

"No," he muttered as though to himself, "I don't think I will."

The paddle came down harder than I'd expected. The sharp crack and my startled yelp filled the room. A matching strike followed on the other cheek. He alternated in steady succession until I was prancing and twisting.

He rested his arm and rubbed my stinging ass with his free hand. It was intense and delightful. My breathing slowed. I inwardly hoped he would attack my shoulders next, and wondered if Mistress would've told him that I liked it.

If she didn't tell him, he was clairvoyant. The thick leather popped like a champagne cork. I couldn't stop the low moans that bubbled out of me. He kept the paddle moving and gradually increased the speed and force.

I adjusted my stance, spreading my feet, and braced against the wall. He read my gestures and stayed at that level, raining blows down on my burning back and shoulders. I wasn't sure how much I could stand, but I didn't want him to stop. It was too perfect, too sweet and steady.

He slowed his pace, then stopped. I realized that my breathing had become shallow. I focused on taking deep, full breaths. His large hands trailed over my red flesh. I swallowed my whimpers and willed my shivering to stop.

"What grows in an orchard, Pet?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Peaches," I gasped. "Peaches, Sir."

He chuckled and took me by the arm. I followed to the closet door, where Mistress had placed a set of cuff restraints. I raised my hands obediently.

As he buckled me in place, I took in his face. He'd removed his glasses. Now I could see the focus in his hazel eyes, set in messy pools of liner like oil pastel. They were captivating. Watching him so closely felt naughty, but I didn't want to look away. He was beautiful.

"Your Mistress gave me a list of instructions, things you don't do, things that scare you, things that hurt too much. I think she wanted to make sure you'd be cared for," he sighed, jerking me toward him and sliding a hand down my belly. "But I have no intention of caring for you."

He pushed past the waistband of my panties and stroked my sex. It gave away how much I enjoyed his attention. Gentle petting suddenly gave way to rough thrusts of two fingers. I stiffened. I'd never been handled like this while in bondage, certainly never by a new partner in a strange place.

"You're much softer than I expected, Pet," he hummed, pressing his lips to my shoulder. "So soft and wet, so eager. Did you want to be sold? Were you tired of your Mistress? Were you hoping to be owned by someone like me?"

He hooked his fingertips into my g-spot and pressed hard. I gasped and squirmed. I did ask for this kind of play. There was nothing wrong with my request... until he took that accusing tone. Suddenly it was an indictment of my Mistress, a betrayal, a sign of unrepented filth.

He curled his fingers in an agonizing rhythm, his palm gliding against my folds, and grazed my skin with his teeth. It was too much. I pulled at the cuffs and trembled. I was close.

"Please, Sir," I choked, trying to hold off.

"Please what?" His voice was melodic, taunting.

"I don't want to cum like this."

"Like what?"

He pressed his body tightly against mine, asserting his control. He nuzzled my ear, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin. His fingers slowed to a crawl, drawing out my approach but not stopping.

"Sir, please, I'm so..." I searched for words. "I'm so sorry. I'm not a bad girl. I don't want to cum..."

"That's right... Mistress doesn't allow you to cum when you're naughty. You work it off until you're a good Pet again, and then you get to cum."

I nodded and bit my lip. I tried to stay very still, worried that any movement might push me over the edge. His hand stopped. I could feel the heat of his breath on my neck.

"Where is your Mistress, Pet?"

"She's gone."

"Why has she gone?"

"She s-sold me."

"To whom?"

"To you, Sir."

"Who is your Master now, Pet?"

"You, Sir," I gulped.

"And if I want you to cum? If I want you to release right here and now, dripping into my palm, shaking and moaning like a fucking whore?" He said the words slowly, deliberately, and I felt each one.

"Then I'll cum, Sir."

His fingers resumed their pulse. He licked my neck. The wide flat of his tongue seemed to wrap around me. The burning in my center reached up into my chest. I realized I wouldn't be able to hold back.

I raised onto my toes, running from his hand, but he stayed with me. He clamped his teeth down on the soft spot behind my collarbone. I came undone. A chorus of "no" and "please" became unintelligible moans of pleasure. I heard the door flex as my balance failed. He caught me with his free arm and held me in place. I came back into myself in time to hear his whisper in my ear.

"What was that, Pet? Did you just cum for me? I thought you said you didn't want to..."

My face burned at his taunts. I took deep breaths and regained my balance. He tugged at my sodden panties and swiped his fingers across my cheek. It was dirty. I was dirty. I had brought this on myself. I deserved the shame.

Marilyn returned to the desk for a moment and returned with a plug. It was a slender glass piece with a blue cat eye design inside. He licked it like a lollipop and my eyes went wide.

"What did Eve give to Adam?"

For a fraction of a second, I considered saying my word, conceding defeat. But I didn't want to stop playing, no matter how low he had me. I could do what he was threatening. I wanted to do it. I pushed my chin out defiantly.

"Depth, Sir."

Marilyn's eyes sparkled. He tucked the toy into my hand and unfastened the cuffs. I waited for direction. He gestured and scoffed impatiently, making it clear that he expected initiative. I started to kneel, knowing that a low position would make it easier to seat the plug. He stopped me.

"No, you stay right there. Panties on. Look at me."

I nodded and glanced at the desk. A bottle of lube was sitting out. I looked back at him. He crossed his arms and looked down his nose at me. He hadn't forgotten anything. I improvised, wetting the plug and my fingers with my tongue. I planted my feet apart and began to work the toy into place.

My face must have been a treat for him. I pressed my lips and knit my brow. It wasn't a difficult toy, but the angle was awkward. And his steely gaze magnified every sensation. It finally slid to the hilt and I sighed, pleasantly full and relieved. He licked his lips.

"Take the bra off," he instructed, reaching for the desk.

I obeyed, dropping it to the floor. He tossed a chain at me and I caught it. The clamps at each end were cold. I carefully placed them on my nipples, shivering at the chill and the pressure. I gave the chain a little tug to ensure that they would stay. When I looked up, he was watching intently.

"I can't imagine why your Mistress would sell you, Pet. Can you?"

"Mistress can do what she likes," I reasoned.

I adjusted my stance, keenly aware of the toys. He shook his head.

"Is she in the habit of doing things for no reason?"

"No, Sir."

"I didn't think so. And I certainly don't want to find out later that the plaything I've bought is defective... damaged... worthless..."

I swallowed hard. He gave the chain a quick yank. I lurched forward and yelped.

"So, why did she let you go? Not to mention the price. I barely paid anything for you, Pet. She practically threw you at me. Now, I want to know why, and you're gonna tell me."

Marilyn caught my cheeks and squeezed, mashing my lips together. My heart fluttered. He maintained eye contact just long enough, then let go with a sneer. I wanted to please him. I wanted him rough, but not angry. I cleared my throat and confessed in a whisper.

"I asked for it, Sir. It's my fault."

He narrowed his eyes and pulled me closer by the chain. I winced. He turned his head and hooked two fingers behind his ear.

"It's my fault, Sir," I said louder. "I asked to play with another Dominant."

He recoiled as if I'd admitted to prostitution. He crossed the room, running his fingers through his dark, messy hair. The theatrics reinforced my guilt. I wanted to follow him and earn forgiveness.

He didn't let me stew long. He sat on the edge of the bed and pointed to the floor. I closed the gap and dropped to my knees. He extended one long leg, offering his boot. I gladly dropped onto it, giving the black leather my full attention.

The taste of his boot, the plug, the dangling chain were incredible. The more he let me work, the more delicate and sweet I felt. I moved my hips to feel the toy shift inside of me.

"Why would you want to play with someone else, Pet?" he sighed. "Does Mistress bore you?"

"No, Thir," I slurred, not wanting to retract my tongue.

"Does she hurt you?"

"No, Thir."

"Maybe you just need something else?"

I stopped for a moment and nodded.

"Then come here and tell me."

I released his boot and let him guide me into his lap. He pulled me in close and I felt his arousal. I bit my lip to keep a smile away. He toyed with the chain and my nipples tingled.

"Tell me what you need," he repeated.

"Mistress is firm, but she's kind always. I wanted to play... less kind."

"Less kind?" he murmured, pulling the chain taut.

I winced and nodded. He smiled and pulled me to my feet. I stood awkwardly between his knees. He groped my ass, pinching and prodding. His open hand came down with a lovely snap.

"Mean? Crude? Dirty? Hard?" Marilyn suggested, repeating the slap with each adjective.

I gasped a "yes" to each one. His thumb found the base of the plug and wriggled it. I arched. My hands reached out for stability. One brushed his bulge and he let out an audible sigh. I couldn't remember the last time I wanted a man so badly.

He pulled me onto the mattress and positioned me on my hands and knees. The bed shifted and I heard the buckle on his belt coming loose.

"Do you remember your safe word, Pet?" he growled.

"I do, Sir. I don't want to use it."

"We'll see."

He raised the chain to my mouth and I took it between my teeth. He tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled, jerking my head and the chain. I squealed. Before I could lower my head, he laid his belt across my thighs. I fell forward, a second scream tumbling out.

"What's the word, Pet?"

I straightened up. My body was trembling. I could feel my moisture gathering. I glanced over my shoulder. He was kneeling behind me, his shirt hanging open, his belt doubled over in his hand. He was panting.

"Hard," I said through gritted teeth.

He grinned and nodded. His bicep flexed. I turned to face forward. The leather strap hit lower on my thighs. I let out a scream that bottomed out as a moan. He let me reset and listened for my word.

"Cruel," I spat instead. "Selfish. Rough. Dangerous."

I named my fantasy and he gave it to me, leaving stripes over my hips and onto my back. It was a loud dance, and one I needed in my core.

Suddenly I felt him pulling my panties away. The belt clattered to the floor. He pried my legs wider and took the plug. I groaned at the emptiness. Something decidedly larger, slick with lube, was poised to take its place.

"Your word, Pet?" Marilyn sounded like an animal.

"Please," I whined, pressing back against him.

He sank into my warmth with a vicious rumble that would otherwise have been terrifying. He put his weight on me, his fingers digging into my hips. I bucked against him. Every thrust shook the bed and rattled my joints and teeth loose.

He wrapped one arm around me and palmed my sex. I was quickly reaching a peak. I knew that, if he used his fingers like he had before, I wouldn't last long. I reached for his hand.

"Please, Sir..."

"I want you to cum," he groaned, his voice vibrating through me.

He dug his fingers into my center. The stretch was unbelievable. In moments, I was riding out my climax. Beneath my own moans and the buzzing of the blood in my head, I heard him grunting his release. His manhood throbbed, spilling his pleasure into me.

When he had finished, Marilyn bundled me into his arms. He held me close, his eyes on mine. He felt for my heartbeat.

"Are you ok?" he asked softly, aggression replaced by concern.

"I'm ruined," I smiled.

He chuckled and stayed with me, knowing full well that a deep drop could hit at any moment. I didn't feel it, though. A gradual slowing, a shallow slump, but not a crash. It surprised me, considering the power of our play.

"Thank you, Sir," I sighed, snuggling into his chest.

"Please. Marilyn."

"Marilyn... Am I dreaming?"

"I hope so. That would mean I get to do that again when you wake up." He kissed my forehead. "That was something else. You've got some nerve, little one."

We sat in silence for a long while. He periodically checked my pulse and felt my fingertips. He was just trying to be safe and attentive, but it made me laugh.

"You didn't hurt me," I insisted, poking him in the shoulder. "You were intense... but that's what I needed. Really."

"Well," he sniffed sheepishly, "I didn't expect it to end like that. I really thought you'd tap out. Alice said you'd be up to a beating, but Dominants can exaggerate. We can make mistakes, too, especially the first time. If I did anything unwanted, I need to be held accountable. That's all."

"The only thing I don't want you to do is leave me without an autograph," I giggled.

He hugged me close and whispered, "Not a chance."


End file.
